VIII

SUNDAY


I said good-night early that evening and did a heap of thinking in my
bed-room. Nothing that seems to me now to be worth recording had been
said or done since luncheon. I went for a solitary walk in the
afternoon, as much to carry out the part of one with some business in
the isle as for any other reason. It is true I actually did do some
business in the way of accosting a few inhabitants and trying tactfully
to convey a suspicious impression. None of them, however, had seemed in
the least likely to belong to the gang I was after, and the sheep and
wax match conundrums had left them cold. I was the less concerned at
this since I had realised that the day was Saturday. To-morrow in church
I meant to take stock of the islanders--and give them a chance of taking
stock of me.

That night my thoughts ran chiefly on my host and hostess. I had learnt a
few more facts about them and these I now put together to see what
picture they suggested. In the first place, the Rendalls were an ancient
family in these parts and had owned their property for some centuries.
As all my prejudices ran in favour of old families, old port, and old
furniture, this was so far reassuring.

On the other hand, Mr. Rendall had apparently lived much abroad but he
dropped no hint as to whether he had sojourned in foreign parts for
reasons of pleasure, health, or business. In fact he was close as a clam
on the subject, and, indeed, on every other subject. Add to this that I
had heard he was hard up, that he had no wife to look after him, and that